The Portland daily press., 1887-11-05
THE DICKENS FAMILY.
Charles Junior and the Fates and
Fortunes of his Brothers and Sis
ters.

Oh despair started OH, at DalI-paSt 2, with
! my pair of pettcoats for Richmond, and din
ed there Oh, what lovely day it was in
those parts"
SO wrote Charles Dickens in February, 1872
and the petticoats alluded to were Mrs. Dick.
ems and her sister, Miss Georgina Hogarth.
Maclise, who loved all three, dashed off a
pencil sketch of them at the time, which has
since become famous.
In 1t you Fave the profile of the handsome,
eager young author; second, pensive and
lovely, of his wife, and, beyond, the delicate
and spirited outline of a face that, in spite of
the forty-fve years intervening, has lost none
of its power to attract.
AS the living link between the great dead
author and his world wide lovers any men
ton of Miss Hogarth must have an especial
interest, and wish the gift were mine to
bring her face to face with you. Perhaps
the word winning describes her better than
any other, for something indescribably win
ming there is in the expressive blue eyes set
under finely drawn brows, the soft, clear
English complexion, with its tender touch OF
pink and the frank smile. Thesmall. straight
nosehas just enough tip atlthe end to give a
| ddoh VI piHuauNJ w tHC oWCtt,5 tItIt ,dnu
to harmonic with the suggestion of humor
that fingers about the corners Of sensitive
mouth. Miss Hogarth's hair is gray. She
wears cap, and there are many fine lines of
time, thought and care engraved on her coun-
tenance. Yet she leaves an impression on
the mind Of youthfullness; not so much
through her manner at once gentle and dig
nlhed; not through her dress, which is that
OF gentlewoman, but through the exquisite
| m0desty that is part of her, the quick and
ready sympathy, the capacity to enjoy and
the readiness to enter into the interest Of
| others.
After Dickens death Foster found among
his papers the sketch Of a character drawn
| from Miss Hogarth, to be used in a forth
| coming book. 1t was roughly jotted down,
| like this: ''She sacrificed to children, and
| sufficiently rewarded. From a child herself,
always the children (of somebody else) to
engross her. And so it comes to pass that
she IS never married-never herself has a
child, is always devoted to the children (of
| somebody else) and they love her, and She
has always youth dependent until her death,
and dies quite happily"
It was Miss Hogarth's relations to his own
| children that Dickens had in mind when he
| wrote, and what these were was shown even
| more explicitly in his will, in which, after
| leaving suitable legacy, all his private pa
| pers and personal belongings to the best and
Il
EMMY enjoin my dear children always to re-
member how much they owe to the said
Ge0rgiana Hogarth, and never to be wanting
In grateful and atfectlonate attachment to
her; for they know well that she has heen,
through all the stages in their growth and
progress, their ever useful, self-denying and
devoted friend"
1t must be remembered that from the first
years of Dickens married life Miss Hogarth
became one of the Dickens family, and not
OnlV did she hiring his phildraO
his eldest daughter was old enough to assume
the responsibility, keep his house, but took a
lively interest in his work, and his play too
In that brilliant coterie, composed of WilBie
Collins. Thackeray, Mark Lemon, Douglas
Jerrold. Lytton-Bulwer, Lander, Landseer
Firth, Macready, Maclise and Stanield, OF
which Dickens was the handspring, his sis
ter-in-law held her way, and by her tact, good
temper and sprightliness kept everyone hap
Ply and at their best In the famous private
theatricals she always took leading part,
and was considered capital actress,
AT present Miss H0garth has closed her
home, which is full Of souvenirs Of travel
and literary associations, and is staying with
the family Of Mr.. Henry Fielding Dickens,
who resides in pleasant part Of Chelsea.
The last time | saw her was in the library,
and she was seated in the old arm chair-the
one with the cane seat and spreading arms Of
carved oak-the very picture Of which, In its
pathetic emptiness, brought tears to the eyes
of thousands IN 1871. 1t Is the same chair
that stood before the desk in the favOrite
study at Gads Hill, and seated in it, shaded
by friendly trees, Dickens drew the children
OF MS brain on paper, and we have them now
in Little Dorritt," "Our Mutual Friend"
Great Expectations" and Edwin Brood"
The fact that though Miss Hogarth, who
still travels much, keeps this chair constant
ly with her, makes of 1t companion, almost
a friend, struck me as something to touch
even the spirit of the dead author. 1t is Just
such an instance of fidelity as would have
been natural to the most womanly woman.
From every part of the world-fOr Dickens
has been translated in all modern languages
and especially from America, letters still
continue to pour in, addressed to Miss HO-
garth. Many of these are from a new genera
ton, enjoying for the first time the delicious
fun OF "Pickwick Papers" or the pathOs of
The Old Curiosity Shop" and longed to tell
some one who belonged to tell some one who
belonged to the writer their new delight.
Others are from older men and women to
whom Dickens has been household friend,
who perhaps heard him read on the other
side, and as the quiet hours oftheir life creep
on lind time to JOt down their "reminiscences,
A multitude OF women write, some regularly,
sending with their letters packets of pressed
ferns and garlands of glowing autumn leaves
to be laid on the sacred slab in Westminster
Abbey under which, and in glorious COM
pany, Charles Dickens rests. The hands of
friends and strangers keep the simple stone
poisoning with fresh flowers. and tighten
ments of Chaucer, Shakespeare and Dryden.
Twice every year a little lady in Ohio sends
on box of immortelles and ferns for this
purpose, always with letter full of gratitude
for the happiness Dickens brought into her
household. One morning weile Fl was with
herMiss Hogarth received charming letter
from lady of HolyOke, Mass. The lady
spoke of herself as an invalid, nom in Eng
gland for the first time, and having spent the
entire three months of her soiourn here in
visiting the spots she han learned to know
and love through reading Dickens; and this
is but one of hundreds of such letters. 1t is
the fashion in certain quarters to decry Dick
ems, but it would take a critic Of much nerve
Indeed, in the face of this vast mass of cor
resp0ndence and loving tribute from all
classes and all countries, to deny that the
great novelist lives, as does no other writer
OF the century, In the hearts of the people
Dickens was oa as you may remember, one Of
q family OF eight children, all Of whom have
died but one sister, Letitia-Mrs. Henry
Austln-now widow, over seventy years Of
age, living quietly in London. Every one
familiar with the childhood Of the dead au-
thor knows how much he tried to make Of
his family and how little they made Of him
until success crowned his bitter struggles.
How deeply the iron of neglect, indifference
and suffering entered his childish soul l new
er realized until his sister-in-law told me
that not until after his death, and until his
biography was published, did his children
dream that their fathers childhood had been
less happy than their own. So intense and
so keen was the anguish the bare reeollect-
tons entailed that after his first son was
born and fame and prosperity were his, he
could not pass without shedding tears the
old warehouse where, midst dirt, decay, rats,
and low companions, he covered the bottles
of backing paste.
1t is curious and indeed an unfortunate
thing for the world that Charles Dickens,
born a genius, which could not be accounted
for by any law of heredity, failed to transmit
his great gifts to any of his ten children.
Whether they will reappear in the grand
children, of which there are fifteen, is an in
teresting query to be answered in the future.
As father, Dickens was hardly less re-
markable than as a novelist. All that man
could to insure mental, moral and physical
health of his children he did No effort Of
his genius was too good for them, and when
pressed and harassed with a thousand cares
and excessive brainwork he yet found time
to write plays and pantomines for their am
usement, and see them carried-to help them
in their studies, to write for his tirst-born the
'Childs History Of England" and for his
daughters a child's version of the New Tes-
lament, so beautiful and so sacred to them
that neither persuasion nor money consider
atoms have induced them to permit it to be
published. Later in life. all that college and
travel and society could do for his chiluren
was called into requisition, ana as far as
equipment was concerned no family was ever